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“Do you have any other options?”
“No. My lawyer says this is as good as it gets for us. I get alimony for five years to compensate for the time I was with him, which is nothing. How am I supposed to live with only ten thousand dollars a month?”
“You live rent-free. I’m sure that’s plenty.”
“Are you fucking listening, Derek?”
“Tone down your attitude, or this conversation is over.”
“He’s screwing me over, plus he wants the children.”
“Why can’t he have full custody of them?”
“He just wants them out of spite. I’m sure he will ship them to boarding school away from his new family. That’s what men like him do after divorcing their first wives.”
“Sometimes it’s better than having to stay with Ms. New Boobs and Daddy’s new spawns. I turned out better than all of you.” Clearly, I’m still bitter about my parents’ divorce, Mom’s death, and the way my father disposed of my brother and me.
“I—”
“Stop, Sharon. You’re only concerned about your status and not your kids.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side,” she argues.
“No. I’m on your children’s side. I’ll figure out what’s best for them and how we can get them help so neither one of you can screw them up.” I hang up the phone and realize Piper is in front of me. “Your family?”
“Yep, they’re a pain in the ass.”
She checks the time and glances at me. “Why don’t we go to your apartment? The furniture should be arriving soon. We can have lunch and maybe figure out what you can do withthe children.”
I could say that they don’t matter, but if I can do something for them, I will. They don’t have to be in the middle of a dispute because their parents aren’t mature enough to handle their separation amicably.
ChapterThirty
Derek
The few timesI’ve seen Piper, she’s on the stage playing her violin, wearing a black dress with her light brown hair tied into a long braid. Logically, I expected someone of her status to be in designer labels, sheltered, living in the upper echelons of Manhattan’s Upper East Side—with a driver for every errand.
I assumed wrong.
Piper is an independent woman. She knows the subway better than I do, which is a shame since I was born and raised in New York, and she’s from Washington State. Even though she owns a car, it’s parked in her parents’ garage on Mercer Island. And it’s safe to say she’s street-smart.
She explained to me that it has something to do with her parents not wanting their children to grow up shielded from the real world the way her father did. If I ever have children, which I doubt will ever happen, I should try to do the same. The biggest shock about this afternoon is my last thought.If I have children.
Where the fuck did that come from?
I don’t want a family or kids. That’s not for me. Though I learned to work as a team and trust my platoon, I’m a loner. I don’t care about relationships, friendships, or continuing the Farrow name.
Kids are not part of my future, I repeat in my head several times until we reach the apartment building.
“Well, this was fun,” I say, not sure how to ditch Piper. It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with her, but there’s no more we can do together. Is there?
“It was okay. My favorite part of this process is making sure the furniture is in the right place. Ready for it?” She claps so excitedly.
No. I thought the torture was over. She has to rest, and I need to figure out what I’m going to do with my niece and nephews. I should say something, but I welcome the extra time with her.
Finding a bunch of dishes, plates covered with plastic, and grocery bags, I ask, “Why is there food at my doorstep?”
Piper is already squatting to look at the loot. “It’s probably your neighbors welcoming you.”
